


Latenight Reading

by ClockworkVixen



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5082535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkVixen/pseuds/ClockworkVixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dorian, it’s the middle of the night, what in Thedas are you reading? Bad habits and how to share them?”</p><p>Low key drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	Latenight Reading

Lavellan curled up next to him, the slight frame of the elf rising and falling with each breath in the candlelight. The man’s hand looped underneath Dorian, the other across his chest resting over his sternum giving off a soft green glow. Dorian’s own hands lay no claim to the elf, barely moving, almost as if doing so would disturb the sleeping form or perhaps it might shatter what surely must be an illusion.

Lavellan seemed to have no such reservation. He was the picture of serenity, the hint of a smile curling about his lips. It would be easy to mistake such a relaxed nature for weakness and while the Inquisitor could show flashes of naivety, Dorian knew the Inquisitor’s care-free nature was as much a mask as his teasing. 

They often shared spaces now, and it was not uncommon to find Dorian on the Inquisitor’s couch while the elf worked at his desk or both of them silently seated in the library. 

How easily he had laughed when he had been asked to stay, the Inquisitor stating that he felt safer. Safe? Surely not, Dorian had joked easily about the possibilities of having an evil tevinter mage stay the night. But Lavellan would have none of that and he had led the mildly complaining man to his bed. 

It took a while to settle in and Dorian would be lying if he didn’t enjoy watching Lavellan strip down for the night. Lavellan was quite aware of his effect and he cast a soft smile before settling beneath the covers. Small talk ensued for a short while until Lavellan slipped off to sleep. Dorian, not finding rest nearly as easily settled instead to reading. 

Dorian tipped his book downward with an almost inaudible sigh. He was trying to better catch the light but he couldn't read the words anymore. After all, he could have easily conjured a flame. Instead he watched shadows play on Lavellan’s form. That elf really thought they could make it, and part of Dorian wanted to believe him and part of Dorian knew better.

The book slipped from his hands. 

Surprise quickly left his face as those bright eyes squinted in the hard light at the stolen material. Lavellan had moved far enough away that Dorian could cross his arms and raise an eyebrow at the inquiring elf. The way Lavellan’s eyes reflected the dim light was both unsettling and curious. Still he kept it from phasing him.

“Dorian, it’s the middle of the night, what in Thedas are you reading? Bad habits and how to share them?” Dorian smirked. “It is you who is sharing, I was trying to be the gentleman and let you sleep.” 

“Is that so?” Lavellan met his gaze for a moment before closing the book and placing it out of reach.

“Excuse me, I do believe I was reading that.” Dorian made a half-hearted attempt to reach for it.

“Now you’re not,” Lavellan shrugged, the start of a smile playing on his lips although it soon tapered off. “-I can’t read this.” Lavellan squinted at the text. 

“Of course you can’t, it’s written in my mother tongue. “ Dorian said with a light teasing in his voice.

“Anything good?”

“Mostly this and that about how the Imperium is the best, how such noble lines will be preserved, my blood is better than yours blah blah blah. I am hoping that insight into Corypheus’ true name is in these pages.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” Lavellan’s head fell back down onto the bed giving away just how tired the elf was. In any other circumstance he was sure Lavellan would be demanding to know more about it, his curiosity insatiable.

“I’m quite serious-”

“You can tell me all about how rude I am in the morning.” Lavellan muttered, rolling closer so that their bodies met and cut him off. “Just get some sleep already.”

“Touchy, are we.” Dorian said with a softly fading laugh. He was given a grunt in reply. Sighing he put out the light and slipped lower in the bed. His shoulder now touched Lavellan’s back but sleep did not come, try as he might. Apparently his bed fellow was aware of this as after an unknown amount of time had past Lavellan shifted to face him. 

“You don't have to stay here.” He said it so softly it was almost missed. He blinked. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to stay.” Lavellan said again louder this time. A ripple of guilt snaked through Dorian’s stomach. Was he so easy to read? He smiled sadly, reaching out a hand to brush away some of Lavellan’s bed head. Lavellan placed a hand softly over his.

“It’s okay.” 

It wasn’t, Dorian knew this and yet he was glad the Inquisitor had offered him a way out. To bed a man was easy enough, but this, this was something more difficult. Something he had dared not try and now that it was offered to him he struggled to grasp it. They’d figure it out. He was pretty sure this was not what Lavellan had meant when he had slowed Dorian’s advances and raised instead the prospect of a relationship. Of something more.

Dorian was absent--mindedly tracing Lavellan’s face. His touch ghosted over the Dalish tattoos, and he didn’t even realize he was humming. Lavellan was looking back at him, no judgment there, although he’d be lying if he didn’t expect at least a little bit. He did not deserve this. Instead of harshness, a hand reach out. Dorian winced slightly but relaxed as they reached to trace over his nose and fell down over his lips. 

This was foreign territory. 

Yet it was comforting, and bit by bit he began to close his eyes, still humming a mindless tune. 

Just feeling Lavellan’s thin hand over his jaw line swept over his mind. The ghosting touch rounded his ears and floated towards his forehead. With drawn lids it was almost an out--of--body experience. Here and yet not quite. He dared not open his eyes lest the strange spell would be broken. The almost inaudible breathing of the elf and the soft crinkle of sheets with the lazy movements was the only sound, and soon even that faded away. 

He woke with part of a hand over his nose, his own hand had somehow made its way under the Inquisitor’s head while his other was still being partly clasped by the elf. For some reason he found this amusing as his brain tried to sort it all out, mind pulling a blank.

The Inquisitor looked peaceful, in a sense that he didn’t often get to see. The hints of worry and forced containment seemed to have all but vanished. Dorian caught himself wondering what Lavellan had been like before all of this had happened. Was he happier? He wasn't left to think long as the elf’s eyes slipped open, Dorian gave him his best smirk before speaking. “Shall I give you that lecture then on the finer points of not stealing a man’s reading material from his hands?”

Lavellan groaned rolling over. “Fen’harl take you,” Came the half hearted response which only made Dorian laugh more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! My first fic. hopefully ya'll liked it.


End file.
